


The jinchuriki's twin

by Dissenter



Category: Naruto, Tamír Trilogy - Lynn Flewelling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, But there may have been unforeseen consequences, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Demons, Dirty Laundry, Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to, Ghosts, Haunting, High priestess Mikoto, Kakashi is a witch, Magic, Moral Ambiguity, Moral Dilemmas, Religious Conflict, Religious Persecution, Rituals, Secret religion, Sometimes there are no good choices, The sealing worked, There's a good reason why Kakashi wears a mask, There's a reason the villagers are scared of Naruto, Uchiha gods are scary, child sacrifice, cover-ups
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-24 06:07:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6143969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dissenter/pseuds/Dissenter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sealing the Kyuubi into Naruto cost more than the Yondaime's life. Naruto grows up haunted by the angry ghost known only as Sister. Kakashi does his best to help both of them.<br/>Sort of fusion with Naruto and The Bone doll's twin. You don't have to have read the book to understand this fic. Some basic knowledge of Naruto is probably necessary though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Demons of more than one kind

**Author's Note:**

> And here we have the setup chapter for yet another overly ambitious WIP. I may have a problem. At least I mostly know where i'm going with this one, plotwise.

Fire and darkness and death. Toxic malicious chakra that poisoned the air and made it hard to breathe. The kyuubi was free, and the vengeance it wrought upon the village that had dared to imprison it would destroy everything that Minato was sworn to protect.

He could reseal it, make the prison anew. He was a seals master, and a genius, and though it would cost him his life he could remake the seal that bound the monster to its vessel. He could remake the seal, but the vessel, Kushina, was dying. Kushina was dying and he had to set aside what that meant for him and think about the village. Without a suitable vessel he could not seal the demon. He needed an Uzumaki, and the only Uzumaki in the village was his wife. His wife and two babies still wet with birth fluids. His children. He could seal the monster but there was no suitable vessel to seal it into.

The children were too young. Too young, and too fragile to withstand the sealing. The life force of a newborn baby was not enough to contain the Kyuubi, and there was no jutsu, no seal no ninja technique that could make it so. Minato knew this, knew this as a genius, as a seals master, as the husband of the last vessel. There was no _ninja_ technique, that could reinforce an infant soul enough to take that kind of strain. And with that Minato knew how to save his village.

He knew how to make the prison anew. The sealing itself would cost his own life but that at least he could do. The jutsu to bind the monster within his newborn child. The reinforcement though… that was something that no shinobi justsu could achieve, that part of it would take older powers, older magics, and the price… sage forgive him the price.

The old magics were something that Minato did not know how to do, were something few people knew, and fewer still would admit to knowing. They were not after all, well thought of. Whispers of witchcraft and the old religion were regarded with deep suspicion by most citizens of Konoha, long since sworn to the will of fire and the teachings of the Sage, and those that still kept to the old faith kept very quiet about it. The only family in the village that Minato knew for sure still carried the knowledge of the old magic were the Hatake, a dying art for a dying clan, he knew that much only because he’d been Kakashi’s sensei. Kakashi could not perform the ritual though, birth magic and death magic were women’s mysteries. Minato had no idea how to find a woman who could do what must be done in time. And then he remembered that Sarutobi Biwako had been born _Hatake_ Biwako, a distant relative of Kakashi and Sakumo.

She had known what he was asking before he even spoke, her face set hard and cold as stone, she knew what the reinforcement would cost. But she was kunoichi, and wife of the Hokage, she would do her duty. She did her best and it seemed to be enough, her face grim as she worked ancient and unspeakable magics, with needle and thread, and blood and skin. She did her best but so much knowledge had been lost, and so the ritual almost drained her, left her helpless before the kyuubi’s rampage. She died with innocent blood on her hands and all those present, Minato, and Hiruzen, and a dying Kushina prayed that it was not in vain.

Biwako carried it out, that terrible unthinkable sin, but Minato had no illusions as to his own responsibility. He was handed his children, one boy and one girl, and asked to choose. Two perfect innocent, helpless children. His children. How could he choose? One boy and one girl with no other difference between them. The seal was weakened when Kushina gave birth, weakened, ultimately because she was a woman. Minato made a decision.

When Kakashi arrived at the scene it was already over. Hiruzen had left with the living child, leaving a bloody scene in the clearing. Even before he found the small, broken body Kakashi knew what had been done. He might not be able to carry out such a ritual, but he knew what reinforcing a jinchuuriki entailed, he knew what his Sensei must have done. It was necessary, he knew that, but he still wasn’t sure he could forgive it. That feeling of horror, combined with his overwhelming grief, and as he buried the dead girl beneath the roots of one of Konoha’s mighty oaks, Kakashi cried for the first time in nearly eight years, his tears the only marker the grave would receive.

The Sandaime retook the Hokage mantle. Buried his grief under layers of duty, and never spoke of what his wife and successor had done to buy Konoha’s safety. They knew that the Yondaime had died to seal the monster. That much the village needed to know. That little Naruto was a jinchuuriki, that they also knew. It was impossible to hide, tailed beasts could only be sealed not destroyed, and Naruto was the only Uzumaki left in the village, the only one the beast could possibly have been sealed into. What they didn’t know was what had been done to make Naruto a suitable vessel for the monster, they didn’t know about the small broken body Hiruzen had left in that clearing as he carried Naruto away to safety. He couldn’t bring himself to taint their memories that way. He justified it as being for the sake of the village, that it would be bad for morale for the people to know the truth, but the truth was he just couldn’t bring himself to say it. Grief, and shame, and love silenced him, and he could not bring himself to taint the memory of his brave, brilliant successor, his dedicated, practical wife. So he did what shinobi did, and told pieces of the truth wrapped with half lies. That the Yondaime had used a new kind of seal that bound the beast in a newborn, that he had died doing it, that Biwako and Kushina had died fighting the Kyuubi, that Naruto was an only child. And people had believed him, hadn’t thought to question. Naruto was the new jinchuriki of the Kyuubi, the Yondaime was a martyr, the old Hokage was the new Hokage, and the village could rebuild.

The Sandaime was a good liar, nobody suspected the truth, but there were whispers. Everyone knew infants were not strong enough to properly contain a bijuu, and so there were whispers, that maybe the baby wasn’t a baby at all, but rather the demon given human skin, or that the demon wasn’t as tightly bound as they were told, or that the seal might break at any moment, freeing the monster to wreak havoc upon the village again. The whispers might have died down in the end, maybe. But in the orphanage where Hiruzen had placed Naruto, things weren’t right. Workers there could hear crying even when all the babies were asleep, desperate and haunting, sometimes things moved, broke, spilled, with no-one near enough to have caused it, and once a lateshift worker swore she’d seen a child’s bloody handprint by the door of the nursery. And so the whispers got louder.

Kakashi knew something was wrong. Knew it in the ever intensifying whispers that surrounded his sensei’s son, in the things that happened around Naruto that no-one could explain or understand, in the tingling of his witchmarks whenever he watched over Naruto in Inu’s mask. Something wasn’t right. Kakashi wasn’t there so he didn’t know how, but somehow they’d fucked up the ritual.

He didn’t know exactly what was wrong, but it was getting worse, he could see that. It was getting worse and Naruto was the only thing Kakashi had left to protect, so for the first time in years he unsealed Storm Watch, his oo’lu, and played it over Naruto. It tasted faintly of dust and old ash but its song was still as strong and sweet as the day his father made it for him. His mask was down, exposing the tracery of black witchmarks, that manifested themselves as he played. First he played a dreaming song, to lull any adults around into a deep sleep, it wouldn’t do to be caught here, like this. The last thing he needed was to outed as a witch.

Next he played the high fluttering trill that would sound for sicknesses of the heart, or soul. What he found did not surprise him, remembering a small broken body in an unmarked grave. The ghost of Naruto’s twin was not resting easy. Somehow the girl’s soul was tangled up with Naruto’s seal, unable or unwilling to move on, and Kakashi knew that this was how demons were born. Not bijuu, which for all their malice and destructiveness were not demons by the reckoning of the old faith. Demons were human souls warped awry by, hatred, anger, jealousy, unable to rest, while bijuu were more akin to natural disasters than anything resembling human. Kakashi felt a stab of sorrow for the innocent baby in front of him, as if the kyuubi weren’t enough to deal with, the boy was bound to the unquiet spirit of his twin sister.

He played a lower pulse, checking on the boy’s physical health. No problems there at least, no doubt he had the kyuubi to thank for that, but that still left the demon to deal with. Kakashi pulled up his mask and resealed Storm Watch before vanishing silent as a ghost. He didn’t return to his apartment. He would have liked to but he needed help, needed guidance, and it had been so long since he’d allowed himself to dream truly, to listen to the messages the Mother sent, so instead he turned to the Hatake compound, made his way inside and lit a fire in the hearth, by the rock shrine, and then he sat and stared into the flames, and begged the Mother to guide him.

The next morning when he awoke, he knew what he had to do. He went to the oak tree where he had buried the little girl, and dug up her bones. He took them back to the shrine and sewed them into a stuffed toy, and then he played over it, a bitter haunting song. He put on the mask of Inu, and slipped the toy into Naruto’s cot. He prayed it would be enough.


	2. Whispering leaves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are side effects to the sealing, desperate discussions are held, and dangerous rumours are spread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place pretty much immediately following the last chapter

The people of Konoha whisper like the trees that shelter them. Secrets, and half-truths bubbling to the surface as gossip and hearsay. The Sandaime listened to the whispers, kept track of what was being said, what the rumours were. And as the village tried to rebuild itself from the nightmare of the kyuubi attack, the rumour was that there was something wrong at the orphanage. That something malicious and uncanny was at work there. He heard the stories about objects moved to trip, or fall, when no-one was there to move them, about the marks of pinches, and blows that appeared on children and staff alike, with none of them seeing the attacker. He heard these things, and he thought about a baby jinchuuriki, too young to bear the burden, and the monstrous, malicious, power sealed inside him. And deep down inside the Sandaime, a man named Hiruzen was afraid, afraid for his village, for his family, and afraid for his successor’s son, who might as well be his own grandchild for the hold he has already secured over Hiruzen’s heart.

He called Jiraiya. What else could he do? If the seal was failing they needed to know, if it could be repaired then Jiraiya was the only one living that Hiruzen could trust to fix it, if it couldn’t be repaired… Well they needed to know that too. Hiruzen didn’t want to think about taking the kyuubi from Naruto, killing that bright, sweet, cheerful little baby, but it was the Sandaime’s duty to plan for such things even when Hiruzen was weeping inside. He called Jiraiya, and he prayed the seal would hold, because the alternative was too much for his battered heart to bear.

Kakashi knew why Sandaime had called Jiraiya. He’d done his best but the dead child’s anger was impossible to hide, and people talked. He knew what Sandaime sama and Jiraiya were discussing behind locked doors and silencing wards, he knew he wasn’t supposed to know that. He had to interrupt anyway. 

Jiraiya listened as Hiruzen told him of the malevolent presence that shadowed Naruto’s steps and he felt cold, when would it end. Minato had _died_ to seal the fox, and it still wasn’t enough. Was all of it for nothing. He was preoccupied with his own thoughts and grief and so it took him by surprise when an ANBU crashed through the sealed window and knelt before the Hokage.

“Hokage sama, my apologies for interrupting you meeting. I know I shouldn’t be here but you need to know.”

“There had better be a god reason for this.” Sandaime’s voice was cold, even as Hiruzen remembered that there was good reason for Kakashi to be included in this meeting.

“You are discussing the situation with Naruto, aren’t you?” The ANBU didn’t wait for a response “I know what’s wrong with him” Jiraya looked hard at the Anbu that he was almost certain was Kakashi, and saw no lie in his posture. An unspoken signal and he removed his mask, confirming Jiraya’s suspicions. He considered for a moment before nodding.

“Go on.” Kakashi was Minato’s student, maybe he knew something about the sealing that the two of them didn’t.

“The seal is holding. Minato’s part of what was done went cleanly, or as cleanly as such things can go. It was the other part that got fucked up” Hiruzen started in surprise, and Kakashi’s eye crinkled in a bleak, humourless smile “Did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out? Being who and what I am, did you really think I wouldn’t know what was done to make Naruto a suitable vessel? Who did you think buried the other child?” Jiraiya, turned to Hiruzen confused.

“What other child? What do you mean by the other part?” Kakashi just looked him steadily in the eye, before asking…

“You’re a smart man Jiraiaya. You know a baby can’t contain a demon. You know no shinobi jutsu can make them able to do so. Do I really need to spell it out?” Jiraiya had started to turn pale, but Kakashi continued on merciless and cold. “You know my family, what we believe, what we can do. Father told you more than most know, maybe more than he should have. You know what the price would have been for such a working.”

“No.” Jiraiya looked at Hiruzen, hoping he’d refute it, knowing that he wouldn’t. “Minato wouldn’t”, the Sandaime’s eyes were old and unwavering as he looked up to meet Jiraiya’s gaze.

“He did what had to be done. He did what had to be done, and now we all have to live with the consequences.” And his tone declared that line of discussion over. “Kakashi, you say that the issue with Naruto is not a result of the demon fox.”

“No it’s not.” He paused and thought about that for a moment “Or at least, only peripherally. The problem isn’t the fox, it’s the dead twin. I’ve done what I can to keep it down, keep it calm, but the child is dead, and it is angry, and there is only so much that I can do to soothe it.”

“What went wrong?” If Jiraiya hadn’t asked, Hiruzen would have.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t there. As far as I can work out the girl’s spirit is tangled up with Naruto’s seal.  Maybe when he’s old enough to learn how to use the Kyuubi’s chakra it might be possible to unravel this mess, but until then there is little to be done.”

“You say you’ve done what you can.” Hiruzen carefully didn’t ask, if it would be enough. He already knew the answer after all. Not quite but it would have to do. It would have to hold, until something better could be fund. Much like his own renewed Hokageship really. Not what was needed, but the best that could be managed.

“I buried the body under the roots of the strongest tree I could find, and when that wasn’t enough, I made a hekkamari for Naruto to take care of. He’s too young really, but there are no other blood relatives I could give it to and it should keep the demon twin from killing anyone at least.” He would have to teach Naruto when he got older, he knew. How to care for his twin, how to deal with witchcraft. He’d have to be quiet about it of course. Village opinion towards Naruto was ugly enough without rumours that he was being taught the old faith. Jiraiya interrupted his thoughts.

“So what do we _do?_ ” and ordinary ninja would never have heard the faint trace of desperation in his tone, but neither Kakashi nor Sandaime is anything close to ordinary.

“Damage control. We assign an ANBU protection detail to deal with any mobs, we move the child out of the orphanage and into private accommodation as quickly as possible, and we forbid anyone from discussing the situation. If people can’t talk about it and compare notes it will be harder for them to put the pieces together. And for now, we conscript all able bodied villagers into the reconstruction effort, if we keep them busy they won’t have the time or energy to cause trouble. Besides, it’ll mean the work gets done that much faster.” The Sandaime was nothing if not practical.

It helped. Certainly it meant that there were no angry mobs with pitchforks. But still, it wasn’t enough. Not when Naruto’s own caretakers feared, and hated what he might be. A nurse at the orphanage made the attempt, too sudden and too subtle for the ANBU to catch her in time. Poison in the child’s milk bottle, half a mercy killing, half grief struck vengeance for her own child lost in the kyuubi’s flames. The ANBU didn’t notice until too late, but the ghost twin saw. She saw and she struck. Knocking the woman across the room to shatter the bottle against the wall. Hate and love, resentment, and protectiveness. She would not allow her twin to be killed. After the ANBU tested the remains of the bottle, detected a deadly poison, it was obvious that the demon had saved Naruto’s life. After that they screened Naruto’s caretakers more carefully.

With the ban on talking of Naruto’s status the whispers shifted, changed target but did not stop. After all Konoha loves its whispers, and denied one outlet, they simply found another. Someone had to be blamed after all, and it was so easy to blame those who were different.

The Uchiha did not follow the old faith. They were not like the Hatake, there were no witches among them, and no secrets either. Followers of the old faith knew better than to make their beliefs public. The Uchiha did not follow the old faith, but neither were they followers of the Sage’s teachings. They were followers of Susano-o and Ametarasu, the Lord of storms and the ever burning flame, and they made no secret of it. Their pride and the pride of their heathen Gods would not allow them to hide. The Uchiha were strong and respected, and so their alien religion was tolerated, even admired. Right up until it wasn’t. Right up until scared, angry, desperate people needed someone to blame for their nightmares. Ironically enough the Uchiha Gods were the only ones in the village with no connection to the night’s events. Not that that mattered. The people of Konoha whispered, whispered that the Uchiha were not like us, that their Gods loved blood and death, that no-one knew where the Uchiha were that night, that maybe they had something to do with it. The whispers spread and tensions began to build. A lot of trouble started there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I figure maybe I should give some translations  
> For those who haven't read the Tamir books (which incidentally I highly recommend)  
> Hekkamari- A doll containing bone that is supposed to contain a spirit and keep it from going crazy. Must be cared for by a living relative of said spirit
> 
> Oolu- a magic musical instrument used by male witches, it can among other things cure physical and spiritual illnesses, console the dead, and cause people to die in exciting and unpleasant ways
> 
> Witchmarks- black patterns that appear on the skin of a witch when they do magic
> 
> And for those unfamiliar with Naruto (although honestly this fic doesn't make much sense if you're not)  
> Kyuubi- a giant fox monster that nearly destroyed the village
> 
> Bijju- tailed beast, exhibit A: The kyuubi
> 
> Jinchuriki- a person with a Bijju sealed inside them. They get some benefits from this, but also tend to be social outcasts. Depending on how good the seal it bits of the monster can leak
> 
> Hokage- the leader of the village of Konoha 
> 
> ANBU- basically ninja black ops


	3. Duty and faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi teaches Naruto, Itachi has a crisis of faith, and Tenzo has a secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be clear there's a bit of a timeskip between Naruto's pov and Itachi's. Naruto's is set before he joins the academy, while Itachi's is right before the massacre. There is no real timeskip between Itachi and Tenzo though.

Naruto was three when the man first came to him in his dreams. He looked familiar. In fact he looked like one of the pale masked shadow people that watched over him, familiar silences, and a distant, disconnected kind of care. Maybe that was why he followed the dream out to training ground twenty five. Because silent and cold though they were, those shadow people were kinder to him than anyone else in the world. They were the only ones who weren’t so afraid of the demon that they dared not come near him.

The dream led out to training ground twenty five, so one night he crept out of the orphanage window and went to go and see. He was only half surprised to see the man waiting for him there. Now that he saw him in person Naruto did recognise him. He was the one the others called Inu, he wasn’t wearing the dog mask now, but Naruto knew it was him.

“Ah, I was wondering when you’d show up Naruto.” Very little of Inu’s face was visible, but his eye crinkled at the corner in an approximation of a smile, and Naruto suddenly felt deeply annoyed.

“You. What are you doing here? How did you know I’d be here?”

“Maa, so rude Naruto. And here I was about to tell you cool secret knowledge. Ah well, I suppose I’ll just have to keep it secret then.” Naruto tried very hard to look sorry.

“Sorry Inu san, I’ll be good, I promise. Please tell me.” Inu tilted his head in consideration before replying.

“Hmm, Ok. Although my name’s not Inu.”

“What? But that’s what all the other shadowy mask people call you.” Naruto was now very confused.

“Well I suppose in a way it is Inu. But not right now.”

Naruto just stared at him blankly.

“Hmm, think about it this way. Names go with faces right. And masks are a kind of face. So the name I have with one mask is different to the one I have with another. I’m Inu when I wear the dog mask.”

“What about now?” Naruto was still confused but willing to go along with it.

“Now you can call me Kakashi.” His eye crinkled again, and Naruto was hit by a sudden burst of curiosity.

“What about when you’re not wearing a mask at all?”

“Now that would be a secret Naruto.” The bastard was smirking under there. Naruto could just tell.

“That’s not fair.” He wasn’t whining. Really he wasn’t.

“Life isn’t fair. But I’ll tell you what. If you ever see me without the mask I’ll tell you the name that goes with the face.” Naruto glared at him, but seeing he wasn’t going to get anything more out of Kakashi, he changed the subject.

“So what’s the super awesome secret you’re going to teach me about then?” There was something eerie in the way Kakashi looked at him then.

“If I teach you this, it has to stay a secret. You understand about secrets don’t you Naruto?” And his eye was sharp and piercing as it gazed at the pocket where he had hidden the doll. The one he knew was important even though he didn’t know why. The one he never let anyone see.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. Would you let me see?” His voice was uncharacteristically gentle, and Naruto found himself taking out the doll, almost against his will. He passed it to Kakashi who held it gently.

“This gives you trouble doesn’t it.” And there was none of the ridicule or disbelief Naruto was used to facing when he tried to tell people about the demon, or the doll, or the uncanny things that kept happening around him.

“Yes” He found himself answering. “What is it. What’s it for. I tried asking people before but they say it’s just a doll and I _know_ that’s not right.” Kakashi folded gracefully to the ground, and then patted the earth in front of him.

“Sit with me.” Naruto sat. “You’re right, you know. It isn’t just a doll.”

“What is it then?”

“It’s a hekkamari. Old magic. It has a spirit in it. You know the one.”

“You mean the demon?”

“Demon, no, well sort of. She’s a spirit, a ghost. Your sister in fact.” His tone was light, but his eye was dead serious. Watching for his reaction with a tone of this is the truth and what will you do with it.

“What? I don’t have a sister.” But it was more a question than a declaration and Naruto could feel the truth of it in his soul.

“Yes you do, a twin. She died when the two of you were born. Now she’s a restless spirit, angry. I made the doll for her. You need to bind her to you. Say Blood my blood. Flesh my flesh. Bone my bone.”

“What will that do?”

“It will bind her to you. You’ll be able to see her, call her.” Kakashi passed the doll back to Naruto.

“I don’t want to.” Naruto shook his head even as he took the doll.

“You need to. You need her. She needs you. You want to be a ninja don’t you?” Naruto nodded, “Well then you need to be brave now. Say it after me. Blood my blood. Flesh my flesh. Bone my bone.”

“Blood my blood. Flesh my flesh. Bone my bone.” Naruto kept his eyes closed. Didn’t dare look at the presence that had shadowed his life for so long,

“Look at her Naruto. See.” Naruto looked and saw a girl very much like him, but thinner, dirtier, naked, with masses of long tangled blonde hair trailing down her back.

“What’s her name?”

“She has none. You can’t name the dead. Not if they didn’t have a name in life.”

“Well what do I call her then?”

“Call her Sister. That she is.”

“Sister?” The ghost turned to him with black empty eyes, and he remembered a hundred petty cruelties, pinches and slaps from an unseen force, toys broken, potential friends chased off, and he turned his face away.

“I don’t want her. She hurts me.”

“She won’t anymore. You tell her to go away she will, you call her with the words I taught you, she’ll come. Try.”

“Sister, go away.” The ghost vanished, and Naruto turned to Kakashi with hope in his eyes. “Can I make her go away forever?”

“No. You need her.” Kakashi sighed softly. “She’s as lonely as you are you know. Maybe even more so. At least people see you. She has no-one else except you. Care for her. Spirits eat with their eyes, they need to be with people. Call her sometimes, let her see things so she won’t be hungry, _care._ ” Something in what he said made it impossible for Naruto to hold on to his anger, so he grudgingly called to her.

“Blood my blood. Flesh my flesh. Bone my bone.” The spirit reappeared beside him, so very angry but so very like him, and he wondered. “Will she be my friend now?”

“No. She is what she is, she’ll do what she does. It would be worse without the hekkamari. But she is your sister, she will protect you, has protected you, where she could. She hates you as only the dead can hate the living, but you are kin so she loves you too.” Kakashi glanced at the horizon.

“Anyway, it’ll be dawn soon. You should head back to bed before you’re missed. I’ll call in your dreams again in the next few weeks. There’s things you need to learn.”

…

Itachi had never been particularly religious. He’d paid his dues at the shrine, and been respectful when his parents spoke of the Gods, but he’d never really connected with the faith of his family. After all the Uchiha Gods were bloody and cruel, war Gods before all else, and Itachi was a pacifist. He wondered sometimes, if maybe he’d have had an easier time with faith if he’d been raised in the Will of Fire, the teachings of the Sage, like most of the rest of Konoha. But he hadn’t, he was an Uchiha, and while he’d never been particularly religious, in the face of the decision before him he felt the need to pray.

He knelt before the altar and he’d never felt so alone. Fire in the right hand for the Goddess, water in the left for the God and for the first time in his life he prayed for guidance. His Gods might be cruel, capricious and deadly, but they understood family, and duty, and love, and how those things could tear a person apart. He couldn’t do this alone. He wasn’t sure if he was hoping the Gods would help him, or strike him down. It could have gone either way. He was planning to turn on kin after all, planning to slaughter every last one of their worshippers in this village and leave their shrine unattended. But Ametarasu of the purifying flames understood _burning out corruption to save what can be saved,_ and Susano-o of the storm shield understood _protect Sasuke, little brother, kin_ and so when he walked out that night it was with fire and lightning behind his eyes, and the Gods ruthlessness and cruelty wrapped around his heart.

His Gods walked with him and shielded him from the horror, and kept him going where his own heart would have faltered, because they were not human and did not feel pity, or guilt. His own heart locked away behind their will and their alien morality, it was a mercy as far as they could understand such things. (And if later that night he threw up in horror at the cruelty they worked through him who was to see or care.) That night was a blood sacrifice, and Itachi had played it out in a waking dream. A blood sacrifice to secure the safety of Konoha, just another one of many that the village was built on, for all that the Sage’s followers claimed not to believe in death offerings.

…                                                                                                

There was divine magic in the air in the bloodwashed Uchiha compound, Kakashi could taste its bitter tang whenever he breathed in, and he wondered just how much of what Itachi had done was under his own control. The medics had taken little Sasuke away, and the cleanup crew wasn’t due to arrive until tomorrow. Until then it was just him and his kohai Tenzo, standing watch over a scene of divine judgement. He looked at the scene and exhaled slowly. There was nothing to be done here, so he decided to go and check on Tenzo at the other end of the compound.

When he got there he did a double take. His cute little kohai was burning an offering to the mother. Kakashi crept up behind him and spoke in his ear.

“I didn’t know you followed the old faith Tenzo.” Tenzo spun around, kunai in hand. Kakashi put his hands up and laughed. “Relax. I’m the last person who would have a problem with it.”

“Wha Senpai. I didn’t see you there.” Tenzo was doing a very bad impression of nonchalance.

“Well of course. Prayer does tend to demand all of one’s attention.” Kakashi smiled behind his mask.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tenzo looked away shiftily.

“Of course you don’t.” Kakashi replied sceptically. “And that’s not an offering to the mother you’re burning to try and cleanse the divine rage from the area.” His cute little kohai looked nervous so Kakashi moved to reassure him. “Relax, as I said, I’m the last person to be condemning you for following the old faith.” And Kakashi pulled out the amulet he kept around his neck. Tenzo tensed in shock.

“Senpai?” Kakashi shrugged.

“The Hatake were always followers of the old faith. Not a lot of people know, but…” He let his voice trail off meaningfully.

“So you too huh.” Tenzo visibly relaxed, as though a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Yep. I am interested in how you got into it though. I thought you would have been raised in the traditions of the sage. Considering well, everything really.”

“Well I was partly. But one of the shinobi who helped look after me after… you know. She was a follower of the old faith, and she told me some things, and well, it just always felt more _right_ to me than the Will of Fire.” There was silence for a moment as they thought. Then Tenzo spoke up again.

“So you’re really…”

“Yep. There’s a reason I wear the mask you know.”

“What so it’s not just to screw with the heads of innocent subordinates.” Tenzo teased.

“No.” And Kakashi’s voice was dead serious. “It’s to cover up my witchmarks.” Tenzo froze in shock.

“You’re a witch?” disbelief coloured his every move. Kakashi hunched defensively.

“What do you need me to show you my marks to prove it?” he snapped.

“No, it’s just. Wow. I never expected.”

“That’s kind of the point.”

“Yeah, I guess it would be.” Tenzo sighed and then changed the subject. “So what do you think happened here?”

“I think, that Uchiha Itachi was far from alone when he carried out this massacre. This wasn’t the act of a lone madman. This has all the hallmarks of divine retribution. You can smell it too. The magic in the air, sort of a mix of ozone and blood.” It wasn’t really a question but Tenzo answered anyway.

“Yeah, I can smell it.”

“I don’t know what the Uchiha did to piss their own Gods off that badly, and I’m not sure I want to know. All I know is we’re best off staying well out of it, bad things happen to humans who mess with the affairs of Gods.” Kakashi stared up at the sky. “You know I almost feel sorry for the poor kid.”

“Senpai?” Tenzo looked understandably confused.

“Oh I know, this is all his fault as much as anyones. Even if his Gods were acting through him they couldn’t have done it without his consent. But still. It’s not going to be pleasant, waking up tomorrow with the divine reassurance gone and the blood and guilt still there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow that was a bit dialogue heavy. Still not entirely happy with the last part, but Tenzo's religion will end up being an important plot point later on so I left it in. I think I just fucked Itachi up worse than canon, which is almost impressive, but he'll live. Maybe.


	4. Change and other uncomfortable things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi gets kicked out of Anbu, Iruka sees something unnatural, and team seven graduate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's been a bit of a timeskip, up to the point where Kakashi leaves Anbu. This chapter brings us up to date with canon.

Kakashi was on a solo mission when storm watch cracked. He was running wounded and he’d had to stop to catch his breath, so he’d unsealed storm watch and played himself out of his pursuer’s field of perception. He’d been bloody and tired with the taste of metal at the back of his mouth and the ache of exhaustion in his bones and he’d barely been able to keep his breath and focus going long enough to outwit the enemy. They had barely passed when storm watch broke, and he had to lie very still and pray they didn’t think to double back and check again. He was lucky, or maybe his prayers were answered, either way he’d made it home. He’d even found a hollow branch to make his new oo’lu from.

He’d made it home and then the Sandaime had blindsided him by forcibly retiring him from ANBU. It shouldn’t have surprised him. If he’d been thinking at all straight he would have seen it coming, but he’d been so caught up in the stress of getting back from a mission gone wrong, running on the edge of chakra exhaustion, with too little sleep and too much bloodloss, and so the significance of storm watch breaking had failed to register. It meant change, change in his fate, in how he was to live his life, change in everything. Kakashi wasn’t fond of change.

Storm watch had been his first. His father had helped him find a suitable hollow branch, had taken him to an old man who could craft it for him. He’d never met the old witch before in his life, he was a civilian, a shopkeeper, they had nothing in common except their faith in the mother. Honestly Kakashi suspected the man disapproved of Shinobi, but there weren’t many other witches in the village and no witch could craft their own oo’lu, so he’d done the work and done it well, just as Kakashi had for the few, so very few, younger witches that had found their way to him with similar requests. He went back to the same man with the new branch, one advantage to civilians, they tended to live longer so if you needed work done years later odds were the same ones would still be in business, could still help.

Storm watch had been his first, and he remembered how his father had helped him understand the destiny it set him, the meaning of the intersections of rings and burnt handprint. It was storm watch, protector, calling him to fight, to guard, to protect the village. He’d been happy, it confirmed his duty to the village, told him that he was exactly where he needed to be. He’d clung to that even when loss had driven him to bury himself in the law of the village and try to forget the faith of his father. Even when he couldn’t bring himself to play it, to unseal it, even to look at it, he had never questioned the path it set for him. Even years later when duty had taken its price in pain and grief, it was still a comfort, and the prospect of change frightened him. What if his next destiny took him away from the village, demanded he walk away from the only life he’d ever known. He crushed that fear. He had chosen eyes wide open, to let the mother back into his life, to accept his power and duty to her. He chose that for Naruto’s sake, he would not turn away for the sake of fear.

The old man was good at what he did, his hands patient and practiced as they transformed a hollowed branch into an instrument of power. Kakashi had taken a few days leave, had stayed with him while he worked, doing all the small chores that the elder could not do while so occupied. The man may not have approved of shinobi but he still never compromised on his craftsmanship. When the day came for the final stages, for the sit still, it was skill and surety only age could grant that guided his hand as he carved the rings of power into the wood with a burning hot iron knife. Kakashi had nothing but respect for the old witch man.

The claiming took blood and Kakashi didn’t so much as flinch as he sliced his own hand open with a kunai. He was used to far worse pain after all. He sat there surrounded by the heat and smoke of the fire, barefaced and stripped to the waist, with the tracery of black witchmarks a sharp contrast against the paleness of his skin. His face was utterly blank as he dripped blood into the mouth of the oo’lu, and sang the claiming song, and he did not hesitate when he thrust his hand into the fire. He did not feel the heat, nor did his hand slip when he caught the oo’lu.

Guide, was the name of his new oo’lu. A teaching destiny, or so said the pattern of his handprint over carved rings of power. He almost wanted to laugh. Looked like he would be taking on a genin team after all. Not that he’d be making it easy for them. His task was to teach, but failure was just as valid a lesson as success, and if a team couldn’t pass his test then failure was most likely the lesson they needed. One day he’d have to pass one though and he’d be lying if he said the idea didn’t terrify him. He had no idea how to go about teaching a bunch of genin, what if he got it wrong, what if they died, what if they asked him where babies come from. Still duty was duty, and in any case, the look on the Sandaime’s face when he’d signed up for the jounin instructor rotation had made it all worth it.

…

There was something _off_ around Naruto. Iruka could see it. All the teachers could see it. It had taken him far too long to realise that Naruto himself wasn’t off. Ironically enough it was the pranks that convinced him. They were just the kind of hellraising, thoughtless trouble that Iruka himself had been guilty of not so long ago, and he understood where they came from. Buckets of orange paint, and frogs in his desk showed him what all the hokage’s promises hadn’t been able to prove. Showed him a lonely, attention seeking, frustrated, little boy, and after that Iruka couldn’t hate him. Whatever was off it, wasn’t Naruto himself, and Iruka refused to punish him for it. Whatever unexplained happenings and eerie feelings surrounded the boy there was no malice in him, no cruelty, whatever it was it wasn’t under Naruto’s control.

Not all the teachers agreed with him. Iruka knew that, knew that they hated and feared him, and yet still he had never expected anything along the lines of what Mizuki had done. He had fought to protect Naruto, and then Naruto had fought to protect him, and Iruka had been so very proud.

He’d thought for a moment that the yellow haired figure standing over him as he struggled to stay awake was Naruto, but Naruto was still busy beating the crap out of Mizuki. Kid just did not know the meaning of the word overkill. Besides the figure had longer hair, and more feminine features than Naruto, for all they looked alike. And then he’d looked into the figure’s eyes and what he saw had chilled him to the bone. The girl child’s eyes were pitch black and deep as the abyss, and for a few moments as she stared at him it was like she’d been looking into his very soul, then she’d vanished. He would have liked to pretend that she had just been some kind of fever dream, brought on by bloodloss and poison, but he knew in his heart that wasn’t true. She was real, and not only that, she was somehow tied up in the wrongness and unexplained happenings that surrounded Naruto. Iruka knew something else too. Right before he’d passed out he’d heard Naruto call her Sister.

…

Somehow, somewhere, Kakashi just knew his old team was laughing at him. Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura, team seven. An old curse echoed at the back of his mind “May you have a whole team of students, Just Like You.” Sensei had said that one. He’d said it to the whole team but seeing as the rest of them died it looked like Kakashi had inherited their share. And he couldn’t exactly fail them. They’d passed his test, and the Mother had made it very clear that his current fate was to teach, these brats were his responsibility now. He groaned. At least this team weren’t in the same year group as Gai’s team, he didn’t want to think about the kind of challenges he would have come up with if they’d both become teachers at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not entirely happy with this, but this chapter exists mainly to bring everything up to date and set up the next chapter so it'll do.


	5. The known and the unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team seven go on their first C rank

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Iruka looks for answers, Kakashi tells a secret, and Sakura has suspicions

Iruka was a good Konoha citizen. Sensible, reliable, trusted. The last person who would ever get caught up in this kind of thing. He was a devoted follower of the Will of Fire, he’d grown up with the teachings of the sage, and had become a teacher in order to pass those teachings on to the next generation. He might have been mischievous in his youth but he’d never doubted, he’d taken the six paths to heart and he was now a solid, trustworthy, reliable ninja. He wasn’t entirely sure when that had changed, how he’d ended up where he did, raiding secure archives for knowledge best left well alone.

Actually that wasn’t true. He knew exactly how he’d ended up there. His own damned curiosity, combined with a fair amount of concern for Naruto. Some knowledge was best left well alone, but the more he looked into it the more Iruka was convinced that someone had already meddled in things man was not meant to know. He breathed in another lungful of dust from half-forgotten scrolls in hopes of dispelling his fears. It didn’t work. Pieces of a puzzle he’d barely grasped the edges of had begun to come together to form a picture he didn’t like, and it was too late for him to stop. Some things can’t be unlearned, some connections can’t be unseen.

He smoothed out the sealing scroll he was reading. He’d shamelessly abused his position as a desk nin to get access to the sealing archives, but all they did was confirm what everybody already knew. Babies’ souls weren’t strong enough to suppress a bijuu, did not have enough sense of _self_ to hold back all that malice. The rest of Konoha had taken that to mean that the line between Naruto and the demon was too fine to trust, had taken as confirmation the petty, uncanny, cruelties that followed in the boy’s shadow. But Iruka knew better than that, he knew Naruto, and knew that there was no malice in that child. He’d brushed it aside, assumed that either popular assumption exaggerated the risks, after all it wouldn’t be the first time, or the Yondaime had adapted the seals. The man was a sealing genius, it was entirely possible he’d known something the general populace hadn’t. Honestly Iruka hadn’t wasted much time thinking about it, Naruto was a sweet, if somewhat high spirited boy, and that was all Iruka thought he needed to know. He’d been so very young. Buried in the depths of the archives with age darkened scrolls, and knowledge darkened thoughts, it was surprising how quickly innocence died.

His research had turned up no explanation for the successful sealing of a centuries old chakra monster in a newborn baby. No jutsu, no seal, no scientific theory that could have made it work, and that in itself was an answer. An answer that a part of him had known before he’d ever set foot in the archives, that he’d known since he looked into eyes as black as space and heard Naruto call “Sister”. There was an unspeakable magic tangled up in Naruto’s seal, in Naruto’s soul, and Iruka’s thoughts shied away from it because a dark voice at the back of his mind had already guessed why Naruto had called that creature Sister.

He didn’t want to know. But he needed to. Because he loved Naruto, and he refused to let him face the dark alone. Part of him wanted to walk away, to forget, to refuse to imagine the Yondaime, the hero of Konoha might be capable of such things, but Iruka was a ninja, and a teacher, he knew his history, he knew better than to pretend the heroes of the past had clean hands. Part of him wanted to hide, and forget, but most of him was simply angry. Angry on Naruto’s behalf, for a burden a child should never be forced to bear, for the suspicion that followed him for the sake of keeping the Yondaime’s name clean. Angry also on behalf of a little girl that could have been, should have been, Naruto’s twin, and had instead become his curse. Iruka had always had a temper, and he’d had to consciously hold himself back from storming into the Hokage’s office and demanding answers. He wasn’t supposed to know, and he’d found out by being where he wasn’t supposed to be, and angering the Hokage wouldn’t change a thing.

He put away the scroll calmly and left the archives. He had found out all he could from them. If he wanted to help Naruto, he would need help from a different source. The followers of the old faith did not entrust their secrets to paper, he would need a living teacher if he wanted to know more.

…

“Do you still follow your family faith?” Kakashi asked. Sasuke jolted in surprise. Naruto and Sakura were with the client, and Kakashi had called Sasuke out to scout the area before they settled for the night. He had suspected that Kakashi wanted to talk to him privately about something, he’d seen the man do as much for the other two. He hadn’t expected a theological debate. Honestly sometimes Sasuke wondered if anyone even remembered Sasuke was not a follower of the sage, it was slightly irritating. After all it wasn’t like the Uchiha had made any effort to _hide_ their heresy.

Sasuke wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to have that conversation. Faith was a difficult topic for him. On the one hand he remembered rituals, and fire festivals, and the way his mother would toss salt into the fire as an offering to Ametarasu, and it was all part of the family that had been stolen from him. On the other hand he remembered what his mother told him, about how the gods could ride those who called on them, he remembered that night when there had been something behind Itachi’s eyes that wasn’t Itachi, and he knew the gods must have helped his brother. And he should have hated them for that, the way he did Itachi but he remembered what his mother had said, when she was speaking as high priestess and not as mother.

“ _The Gods are not human Sasuke.”_ She had said, “ _They are not human and you cannot judge them by human standards. They help us because we honour them, are sworn to them, they strike down our enemies because we ask it of them. They can understand loyalty, and protection, and desperation, but not love. Not love and not hate. Maybe that’s why we feel such things so strongly. We Uchiha, we feel both of those emotions to such depths as could burn the world, maybe that’s because we have to feel them for our gods as well as ourselves. So remember, you should respect and honour the gods, but you shouldn’t love them, or hate them, those are the feelings they cannot return.”_

His mother the high priestess had told him that and something bone deep inside him had known it to be true. So he didn’t hate the gods, or love them. Not the way he lovehatedloved Itachi. He didn’t know what he felt about them. He did know he didn’t want to convert though, and people had tried, to begin with. They’d seen a small child who couldn’t possibly be old enough to know what he believed and thought that it would be better for him if he could be guided into following a more socially acceptable religion. He didn’t know how he felt about his gods but they were _his,_ and he was one of only two people in the world who could still lay claim to them. He wondered if maybe that was why Kakashi was asking, if he was going to be yet another of those irritating, self-righteous followers of the Sage. He didn’t think so though, Kakashi’s tone hinted at something entirely different. So Sasuke answered.

“I do. Why, do you have a problem with that?”

“No problem. It’s just, if you have questions. I might be able to help answer them.”

“What do you know about it. You’re not an Uchiha.” Sasuke’s words were harsh but he could not hold back his curiosity. What did Kakashi sensei know about it, who had told clan secrets to an outsider, and should Sasuke be angry or relieved?

“No, but my teammate was. Uchiha Obito. He died before you were born. He told me some things that you were probably too young to learn before the incident.” Well that answered that question, and Sasuke wondered if it was ok to feel glad that this unknown relative was not one of the ones whose blood painted his nightmares.

“You’re an outsider, he shouldn’t have told you anything.” He couldn’t help pointing out.

“Aa, but he was lonely. He wasn’t exactly in the clan’s good books, and sometimes you just need someone to talk to when you aren’t sure what to believe.” Kakashi smiled a little, “Besides, just between you and me, he had a slight tendency to babble.” Sasuke wasn’t sure what to do with that information. Uchiha didn’t babble. If this Obito had then Sasuke could see why he wouldn’t have been popular with the rest of the clan. Still a part of Sasuke was darkly amused at the irony. If this Obito had been a better Uchiha, then the clan’s mysteries would have died with the adults of the clan. If anything survived it would be because the black sheep of the clan couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“How much did he tell you?” And Sasuke wanted, needed to know. Even if he wasn’t sure how he felt about the gods, these were the traditions of his _family,_ this was a chance to reclaim things he’d thought were washed away in blood years ago.

“Not everything.” Kakashi admitted. “And there’s a lot I don’t remember. But I know a few of the stories and rituals they didn’t tell the younger kids, and I know the ceremonies for first blood, first kill, and initiation. Well more or less, I might have some of the details wrong. It was a long time ago and I didn’t pay much attention at the time.”

“Why not?”

“Do you listen to everything Naruto says?”

“Hn” Sasuke conceded the point. There was one thing that still confused him though, and he had to ask.

“Why are you so willing to explain this? Everyone else, after… They all kept trying to teach me the path of the sage. They wanted me to abandon the religion of my parents, my family. I’d lost everything else and they thought I’d be happy to just forget all of it, sign up to their “will of fire”, be _nice_ and friendly, and follow their rules, and forget I’d ever been given to the flames and the storm. They didn’t _want_ me to know these things. Why aren’t you like all the rest of them?”

“Maa, well Sasuke. Let’s just say I know what it’s like not to believe the same things as everyone else believes.” Kakashi’s eye crinkled up in a smile that revealed absolutely nothing, and his tone was a taunt, _can you figure this out, are you as smart as you think you are?_ Sasuke’s mind flashed through a dozen possibilities, but in the end the obvious solution was usually the correct one.

“You follow the old religion.” Sasuke stated, and absolutely did not feel a warm glow when Kakashi leaned forward to ruffle his hair.

“Very good Sasuke chan.” He looked about to continue, but just then a loud shriek echoed out from the campsite, and they had to cut short their conversation.

…

A few days into their first C rank and Sakura was convinced there was something _wrong._ Tent lines snapping unexpectedly, things going missing from their supplies, noises in the dead of the night, and always, always the uncomfortable feeling of being watched. Something was going on and Sakura was fairly sure it was all Naruto’s fault. She had a reason as well, and it wasn’t just that something had always been a little bit _off_ around Naruto, that adults had seemed strangely wary about him, that things _happened_ around him that he didn’t do. No, the main reason Sakura thought Naruto had something to do with it was because she’d heard him talking in the night, she’d seen him whisper to the shadows while he thought she was asleep and the shadows _whispered back._ It had sent the cold chills down her back trying to reconcile that image with the boisterous, cheerful teammate she thought she knew. The worst thin was, casting her mind back, she wasn’t entirely sure the something wrong, she was picking up on was actually new. It had been there in the village too, it was just that now, out in the wilderness, far from the safety and distractions of home, it was so much more noticeable.

She couldn’t relax, hadn’t slept properly since they’d left the village, and paranoia was starting to creep in. Maybe that was why she was the first to register that they were under attack. She might have felt proud of herself for being so quick to respond, if her initial response hadn’t been a girly shriek. She really hoped Ino-pig didn’t find out, she’d never let Sakura live it down.

Still at least her scream had the positive result of bringing Kakashi sensei and Sasuke kun running to rescue them, which was probably for the best. Humiliating as it was to admit, she and Naruto were the weaker half of the team and she didn’t fancy their chances against two missing nin. The fight was a blur of violence and adrenaline, and it was purely by chance that Sakura noticed. A blade thrown at Naruto that suddenly changed direction midair to hit the tree by his head, as though deflected by an unseen force. A faint shimmer in the air, like the hazy outline of a person. The fact that Naruto didn’t look at all surprised.

Sakura felt cold. Naruto was her _teammate,_ he might be slightly irritating and obnoxious, but he wasn’t _bad,_ wasn’t dangerous. And yet there was something deeply unnatural going on here and somehow Naruto was right in the middle of it. Witchcraft, she could barely bring herself to think it, but all the signs were there. Sage help her she didn’t know what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually have a fairly complicated backstory for Mikoto and Sasuke's relationship in this. Basically Itachi was Fugaku's heir, and future clan head, but Sasuke was Mikoto's heir and she was grooming him as future high priest. Thus in some ways Sasuke has a deeper understanding of his religion than Itachi does. However Sasuke was still quite young when the massacre happened and there are certain aspects of the religion that children don't learn until they are older, which is where Kakashi comes in. Because Obito said more than he should, Kakashi knows a lot of the coming of age stuff that Sasuke should have learned from the clan.  
> Sakura also has an interesting backstory which I will elaborate on later.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok explanation time. So for those of you who have read the Bone doll's twin it's probably fairly obvious its not a straight up character replacement fusion, but there are some loose correspondences. Naruto is pretty much Tobin in this fic, but he is an actual boy and his sister was used to reinforce his life force and chakra coils to make him a viable vessel for the fox, rather than to conceal his gender. Kakashi is mostly Lhel with Mahti's powers (because he's a guy), but there are also elements of Arkoniel especially at the beginning (Iruka will probably be taking on elements of Arkoniel's role as well, which means there may or may not be slash between the two of them.) 
> 
> For those who haven't read the book, basically the premise of this story is that babies can't be used to seal ancient forces of malevolent chakra without reinforcement. Shinobi techniques cannot carry out such reinforcement, but witchcraft can, at a cost. Reinforcing Naruto costs the life of his twin sister, and the ghost of the dead child becomes a malevolent spirit.  
> Other points of note are the fact that witchcraft and the old religion are not looked upon kindly in Konoha so most practitioners keep it secret, and that the civilian population of Konoha is deeply superstitious.
> 
> I really shouldn't be starting this, but i'm justifying it with the fact that i'm only two or three chapters away from finishing avenging angels, and four max away from ending a wing and a prayer.


End file.
